


Rose Red

by bittybae (piscespride)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piscespride/pseuds/bittybae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd was curled into the arm of the couch, concentrating on his phone -he’s been obsessed with the app Flow- and dressed in a thick, deep blue sweater. With thumb-holes. Looking like the world’s hottest nerd, so really, Stiles couldn’t help himself.</p><p>“Dude, Boyd, lookin’ good my man. Blue’s totally your color.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose Red

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted Boyd blushing

Stiles is sure that Boyd is trying to kill him. How could he not be? Surely Stiles did something to piss him off, and Boyd wants to kill him for it. It’s the only logical explanation for it.

Boyd’s blush.

The first time it happened, Stiles almost didn’t notice it. Hidden under Boyd’s dark skin, covered by the inside of the dark jeep, just barely there. They were driving back from the weekly pack dinner, Boyd unable to stay for the night and catching a ride home with Stiles, who was cracking incredibly dirty jokes and sweet talking Boyd in the same breath. It was only when a car passed them and Stiles looked over did he catch it, the barest of pinks staining Boyd’s blank face.

The second time it happened, Boyd had brought Stiles coffee (well, he brought some for Lydia and Allison too,but Stiles got his with a smile). Stiles proclaimed Boyd was his favorite wolf of them all, and will be replacing Scott, ‘cause Scott never brings  _him_  any coffee, only Allison. He’s ignoring the fact that it’s because Allison is the only one who asks for coffee when he’s getting it, Stiles order is long and complicated and usually very expensive so he just doesn’t get any.

(”Bro, I’ll bring you  _a thousand_  coffee’s a day, don’t replace me!”)

Boyd had rolled his eyes and nudged Stiles, leaning down a little to look at the screen. The harsh light from his laptop lit Boyd’s face, and Stiles could see the cute pink tint to his cheeks.

 

The third time it happens, Stiles almost died. Not literally of course, but God, Boyd just looked so wonderful. It was near Christmas, just a week left to go, and the wind was harsh against even the ‘wolves. There was a pack meeting at Derek’s, touching up on some training and what he’s found in the woods (nothing left of animals besides blood spatter and bones). Near the end there was a lull in conversation, everyone packing up or snacking and watching tv. Boyd was sitting next to Stiles, fiddling on his phone. Stiles had gotten in late, so they hadn’t been able to talk like they usually did. He hadn’t noticed Boyd beyond where he was sitting (and saving a seat for Stiles), so when he turned to him he was shocked.

Boyd was curled into the arm of the couch, concentrating on his phone -he’s been obsessed with the app Flow- and dressed in a thick, deep blue sweater. _With thumb-holes._  Looking like the world’s hottest nerd, so really, Stiles couldn’t help himself.

“Dude, Boyd, lookin’  _good_  my man. Blue’s totally your color.” 

And dear God it was like someone painted Boyd’s face rose red, and smeared it across his neck and ears. No one else was paying attention, thankfully, and Stiles could just die. How does Boyd even exist? 

 

The fifth time, Stiles holds that close to his heart.

Boyd came over for movies, some rom-com Scott suggested (they really needed to stop listening to Scott) when Boyd reach over and grabbed Stiles hand. It kind of hurt, becuase of how tight his grip was, but when Stiles looked at him to ask, his eyes were set on the tv but his face was flushed. 

“Want to go on a date?” He asked, face and tone blank, as if he could care less about Stiles’ answer. But his blush gave him away, spreading up his neck and covering his cheeks.

“Dude, nothing would make me happier. Except maybe if you wore that sweater again.”


End file.
